Entry Two: January 18th, 2008

~Aurora~

It had been another long day at work. It was busy, what with several important groups coming in for conferences. There was also an English football team staying for when they played FC Barcelona in the upcoming Champion’s League game.

That hadn’t been what had stressed me out though.

I was overwhelmed by the several customers that decided to complain about everything, as well as the economical changes. I was ready to leave all thoughts of the hotel behind, and just grab a drink and relax before taking a cab back to my condo.

I decided on my favorite bar, a high end one where I was going to be able to relax without question. Only people who had money and class went there, so there were no bar fights or lewd dancing to ruin the experience.

I ordered my martini, and chose a nice seat at the bar.

As usual, there was a live band playing on the small stage in the back. The lights were dimmed as the jazz seduced me. Several couples were dancing, slowly moving to the rich music. It wasn’t the erotic dancing at most clubs, but intimate and romantic in its own right.

I was jealous of the couples though, envying the fact that they had someone else. It wasn’t like I was ugly or had a really obnoxious personality flaw. It was due to the fact that I spent the majority of my day in a hotel, and liked to spend the rest in my condo relaxing. I wasn’t even introverted or antisocial. I just liked going home to a relaxing evening alone. Ever since my parents moved to the country, it was just me in the big city.

I had dated several guys, but none had been willing to accept my work schedule. I didn’t get siestas like most of the nation. I worked all day keeping people at the hotel happy, making sure there were enough bottles of shampoo, and that the toilet paper never ran out.

I sighed as I listened to the saxophonist play a smooth solo, calming my thoughts. It had been a good idea to come, even if seeing the other couples made me envious.

I knew I’d be ok in the long run.

Goosebumps erupted along my arms as that familiar feeling of someone watching me crept over my being. I couldn’t imagine who would be though. I wasn’t the prettiest person there, nor was I the richest. Many had designer dresses on, right off the runway, or killer heels and sparkling diamonds.

I was in designer clothes, but it was business attire, and my heels were basic patent leather pumps. But it was a far cry from the dress the girl several seats away at the bar from me was dressed in. Her cleavage was practically on the counter.

My eyes traveled the room, searching for the source.

Brown met brown. Our gazes were caught in a flash. Across the room he was reclined in a shadowed booth, twirling the ice cubes that remained in his glass lazily. It seemed like hours that we looked at each other, bottled into mere seconds. Shivers raced up and down my spine as my face grew hot.

The moment broke as several newcomers sat in between us, blocking my few of him. Suddenly the music faded back in, and the dull murmur of voices returned.

I sat, frozen. Shock didn’t describe the state I was in.

I was only pulled out when I felt cool glass brush against my hand. The bartender flashed me a smile before returning to other customers. I glanced down at the drink, sangría, and frowned. I had definitely not ordered this. But the longer I stared at the drink, I began to notice letters reflecting through the red liquid. I lifted the glass to stare at the napkin beneath. One word was written: venga.


~Eva~

I carefully twirled the piece of plastic between my fingers. I looked ahead in line eagerly. I could smell the aroma all through the small café, and was anxious to finally get a cup of coffee. I knew there were better things the three euros could be going toward, but I felt as though I needed that small reward.

At last I stepped up to the counter, and placed my order. I watched as the card swiped, leaving the bare minimum in my account. However, as I was handed cup of the scalding liquid, my guilt faded away.

I headed to the counter to grab some sugar and crème. I carefully measured out the amounts, and then headed toward the door, not intending to stay near the temptation. However, as I reached the door, I was bumped into. The coffee sloshed over the side, and onto another man, who turned around, enraged.

“What the hell?” he demanded gesturing to his stained shirt. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, looking down at the ground, “It was an accident.”

His hand shot out, knocking the remaining coffee from my hand. I watched as my money, what little I had, ran along the tiled floor. Tears clouded my vision as the man cursed several more times before storming out. Pulling myself together, I grabbed some napkins, and crouched down to clean it up.

“Hey, let me. It was my fault,” another man said as he bent down as well, holding napkins of his own. “It’s fine,” I murmured, just wanting to escape the stares as quickly as possible. It seemed everyone was looking in my direction.

Hastily I cleaned up, the man helping, and discarded the used napkins. With a small murmur of gratitude toward the man who’d helped, as well as was responsible for the mess, I rushed out onto the street, more than happy to be lost in the crowd.

I heard the bells of the door jingle behind me.

Seconds later the man fell into step beside me. “Hey, I feel really bad. Can I buy you another cup of coffee?” he questioned.
I stopped, and glanced up at him. His brown eyes were sincere in his apology, and his posture was friendly enough. Still, I was not inclined to allow this stranger to buy me more coffee. “It’s fine, really. I know you didn’t do anything on purpose,” I replied at last. His hopeful expression deflated some, “I really do owe you. Please, let me do this.” He gestured to another café, one that I knew to be significantly more expensive.

He didn’t seem willing to let this go.

“If it’ll make you feel better,” I conceded. He smiled brightly, and led the way in. Almost immediately stares followed him. I received curious looks as well.

I glanced down at my beat up jeans and faded shirt self-consciously, knowing I didn’t look particularly fashionable.

After ordering, we sat at a small, isolated table in the back. Still, many turned completely around to glance at us. I shifted in my chair, glad I was mostly hidden from view in the corner I had situated myself in. The coffee was delicious, much better than what I had bought originally.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I failed to notice his gaze, which was focused solely on me.